


wandering from the nightly shore

by newsagogo



Series: spin us a tale, tell us a rhyme [1]
Category: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys - My Chemical Romance (Album), The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys (Comic)
Genre: The Zones, backstory! as told by unnamed ocs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-30
Updated: 2020-06-30
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:01:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24988750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/newsagogo/pseuds/newsagogo
Summary: There's plenty of tales in the zones. You stop somewhere for the night, someone's bound to tell you a story. You've heard of the Witch, right?
Series: spin us a tale, tell us a rhyme [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1820344
Comments: 6
Kudos: 26





	wandering from the nightly shore

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally going to be a list of headcanons but then I thought too much. Yes the title is from The Raven

This desert isn't quite right. Everyone knows this, though Better Living will do its best to ignore that. Zones can stretch on for miles upon miles on day, and take an hour to pass through the next (or sometimes disappear).

This place will change you, but this isnt a story about you. At least, you arent a part of it yet. No, this is a story about someone you'll always meet.  
There isn't a soul in the zones who don't know her, who doesn't beg the static not to send them to her this day. No lone survivor who doesn't ask her to keep the souls of those ghosted crews safe. She's been around forever, since the wars if rumors are true. All you have are rumours because you can't talk to her easily these days. 

Thing is, the Phoenix Witch wasn't always the Witch.

  
Once upon a time, before the industry had even dreamed up the idea thatd become dracs, she was just another zone kid. Once she was a fighter just like some of you.  
Don't get it twisted, she's always been a witch that much is true. Those Bird Witches could bring you a warning faster than any tech, and could fill any role you needed. But, oh, theres something about this desert that changes you. Those witches got more birdlike by the day.

You don't get born into a fight like those wars and not try and bring comfort where you can, us rusted remains didnt even have enough time for any concerts back then. Could barely keep a spray of colour. But the young witch girl, she had an idea. Those mailboxes we'd use to send a message through the static? Miss Witch thought to herself "If the messages get through, cant you send a soul if you try?". And one day, a fella looked out at the remains and sees the youngest witch with her crow feather coat out in the sands. With a basket in the crook of her arm, she was sifting through the sands, grabbing off the masks from loved ones none of us could stop to bury. 

(And before any of you interrupt 'cause I _know_ you won't understand it, back then it was the body we mourned over.)

Anyways back to where I was - the little raven pickin' through for masks. The fella watching asks her why she'd steal from the barely cooled bodies and you know what she says? She tells him those masks are a part of a person, it's something they wear that makes 'em them. She says if the mask is so important it must have at least a little soul to it, and if she delivers it they can pass on.

Well this about fries his wires, he lets her pass through but thinks about those masks for days. He tells this event to the crews he drifts in and out of, and soon more people are placing masks into mailboxes. And the Zones take _notice_ of this! 

See, that young witch was now known across the zones. She was only one but the stories, the stories have power and as more people came across her, the more those stories grew. Her raven feathered coat grew longer, became a cloak, and her mask started covering more than just her eyes. Eventually, you couldn't see where her cloak started and her skin stopped.

She travelled further and faster, swapped her handbasket for a cart to deliver more souls. Some would say she moved like gravity couldn't catch her, and within weeks the good lady had started floating. It's a funny thing how our words have power here. 

This girl was no longer a witch y'see, the growing legends meant her old life was burned and her gang scattered. That's how she went from _a_ witch to _The Witch_ , rising from that old life like a phoenix from the ashes. She became the same figure who comforts you all in your dreams from time to time, who makes sure your soul is delivered to the next world. Her colors are long gone and faded, but she makes sure yours don't get washed out.

...how do I know that? Kid, weren't you listening? The zones change us, child, and some of us don't get to stay fully human.

**Author's Note:**

> I think the Witch is neat and her backstory is free real estate. I didn't proofread this much.  
> Might make this into a series of stories of zone figures?


End file.
